


whatever life they choose

by wrennette



Series: fearsome, loyal, and formidable [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Blanket Permission, Gen, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21555604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/pseuds/wrennette
Summary: Obi-Wan meets Maul on Melida / Daan, and begins a game of lothrat and tooka that will see them both caught in bonds of brotherhood.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Darth Maul
Series: fearsome, loyal, and formidable [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553440
Comments: 16
Kudos: 354





	whatever life they choose

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title and series title taken from the wookiepedia entry on Massassi Sith. Prequel to i have tried in my way to be free, written for Clone Wars Saved Exchange 2019. I don’t know if I’ll write more in this verse, but if I do it will go into the fearsome, loyal, and formidable series, so feel free to subscribe, but no promises.

Obi-Wan paused, hand going to the ground-durasteel blade at his waist. _Something_ had been skittering against the back of his mind for days now, and although the footsteps were faint, Obi-Wan was reconsidering. Not some _thing_. Some _one_. Curious. 

Concentrating, Obi-Wan made himself small, unimportant. It had been months since he had to _hide_ like this - he was one of the most powerful warlords of the Young, and that meant people listened to him, deferred to him. He’d been concentrating on making himself confident, inspiring. On leading. The war was almost over after all, and soon his adopted people would have the leverage to form a government, to ensure that they would be safe without constant battles, that their planet would be safe. 

Until then, it was Obi-Wan’s job to keep them safe. Not because he was a Jedi, not anymore. He’d given up that title when he laid his lightsaber in Master Jinn’s hand and told him to go back to the Temple with Tahl, that Obi-Wan was staying. No. He was not here because he was a Jedi. But because it was the right thing to do. 

So he waited, still and silent, for whoever it was following to come closer. Were they brought in by the Melida? Or the Daan? Both groups of elders had tried to kill him before. He was one of the eldest and longest serving of the Young anymore, much of their leadership assassinated by killers sent by grandparents too caught up in groups of birth. 

The quiet but distinctive _snap-hiss_ of a lightsaber activating sent Obi-Wan’s anger flaring hot, although he remained still as stone. A Jedi. The Temple had sent someone after him then. Had decided he was a problem to be solved, rather than someone trying to bring peace to their people the only way they knew how. 

Obi-Wan rose and turned, snarling and brandishing his own weapon. It was nothing more than a length of honed durasteel, scavenged from one of the old industrial sites, the edge machine-ground until it gleamed dangerous and sharp. It was a primitive weapon, especially when compared to a Jedi’s lightsaber. But the being Obi-Wan faced - they were no Jedi. 

“Who are you?” Obi-Wan asked the other child, for there was no way the red-skinned being was older than him, or at least, if they were, not by much. 

“My Master wishes to speak with you,” the being said, instead of answering the questions. 

“That’s nice, who are you?” Obi-Wan demanded impatiently. The being snarled, showing sharp, jagged teeth. 

“Maul,” the boy bit out, as if against his better judgement. 

“Well Maul, you can tell your Master that I don’t believe in Masters, that I don’t take orders from anyone, not anymore,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m a warlord, I make decisions.” Maul’s eyes narrowed. 

“My Master won’t be pleased,” Maul said, and Obi-Wan thought the other boy was probably trying to threaten him. Obi-Wan just smiled grimly.

“And?” Obi-Wan said, that slight, unamused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t care about pleasing your Master. I told _my_ Master to go back to Coruscant if he couldn’t be bothered to help the Young. Why should I care more about your Master than mine?” Maul blinked, and the hand holding his lightsaber wavered. 

A surge of jealousy welled up in Obi-Wan. Who was this boy, that he should wield a lightsaber when Obi-Wan had to give his up? And to be sent on a solo mission, when surely he couldn’t be any older than Obi-Wan? Certainly he was no Knight, not even a Jedi, with a crimson bladed ‘saber that _screamed_ in the Force, sobbing its distress. He didn’t know how the other boy could wield such a blade, although he supposed it was better than nothing at all.

“The only way I’ll speak to your Master is if you capture me and bring me to him,” Obi-Wan declared. “Until then, I have work to do.” Maul hesitated a moment, then nodded, frowning slightly. He powered down his lightsaber, and warily, they parted ways. 

Over the next few days, Obi-Wan felt Maul’s presence almost constantly niggling at the back of his mind. He ignored it as much as possible, going about his business, planning attacks and defenses, and training his troops. He also practiced his own skills more than he had in months, curious as to whether Maul would really be able to overpower him. 

Physically, they were of a similar build, small and slight, but trained for flexibility and strength. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder what style Maul used when he fought. His own training was mostly in Shii-Cho, the most basic of the forms taught to Jedi Initiates and Padawans. He’d begun to copy some of his Master’s Ataru forms, and he’d always been good at the acrobatics that form was based in, but to say he’d been trained in Ataru would be - stretching.

About a week after their first meeting, Obi-Wan got his chance to test his skill against Maul. He was on a solo patrol, far from backup. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Maul chose to attack then. Obi-Wan had been increasing his solo patrols recently, half inviting the other boy to make his move. 

Maul sprang at him from cover, attacking furiously. At first, it was all Obi-Wan could do to keep from being skewered on Maul’s blade. He dodged and ducked, using his arms against Maul’s arms to re-direct some of the other boy’s attacks without actually being able to counter his blade. It took every bit of warrior skill the Jedi had trained into Obi-Wan for him to survive Maul’s opening flurry of strikes. He nearly lost a limb more than once, and earned more than a few burns striped across his arms and torso when he nearly didn’t dodge in time.

It took a great deal of effort, and a few more burns, but Obi-Wan managed to disarm Maul, slamming the hilt of his blade into Maul’s hands and causing him to drop his weapon. Maul swore, reaching for the lightsaber. Obi-Wan kicked it away even as he began his own attack. Maul swore again, then went silent, face falling into a scowl of displeasure as they fought. 

Maul was skilled, Obi-Wan noted. As well-trained as Obi-Wan was, or perhaps even better. The thought displeased Obi-Wan more than he might have anticipated. Over the past months as one of the highest military commanders among the Young, he’d become confident in his own martial abilities. But the Young and their enemies both fought with rusted old blasters that barely held a charge and primitive weapons like his durasteel sword, not lightsabers and Force-skills like Maul. Obi-Wan had begun losing his familiarity with how other Force-users fought.

Anger and jealousy and frustration tangled in Obi-Wan, and he drew on those emotions. It was not the Jedi way, but he was no longer a Jedi. He was one of the Young, and he wouldn’t be forced to abandon his people. Not by the Jedi, and not by Maul and his Master. 

Finally Obi-Wan forced Maul into a position of submission. “Yield,” Obi-Wan commanded, and Maul snarled, but dipped his head. “I won’t go with you, my place is here.”

“My Master _will_ have your service,” Maul bit out.

“Not today,” Obi-Wan said firmly,

“Not today,” Maul agreed with a displeased scowl. He eeled away from Obi-Wan’s blade, summoned his lightsaber to his hand, and disappeared into the wilds. Obi-Wan knew he wouldn’t go far. He wondered if Maul would attack again that same day, or wait until another time when he thought he could surprise Obi-Wan, or catch him at a disadvantage. Obi-Wan would just have to wait and see, he supposed. 

Obi-Wan ended up waiting another week and a half. He continued his duties waging war for the Young in the interim, and they moved their lines forward in a few key places. They secured access to a water processing plant, and Obi-Wan, as one of the few Young with a formal education, taught the assigned engineering team how to get some of the machinery running. If they could keep hold of the plant and have it functional as a source of clean water, they could begin distributing that water as a hearts-and-minds campaign to win over the locals, which would help keep the elders from learning their location as swiftly.

Maul came in the night, when next he came. Obi-Wan woke with his heart thundering, his sword already up as Maul’s crimson-bladed saber slashed through the meagre wad of blankets where Obi-Wan had laid a moment before. They fought fast and furious, scrambling around and under obstacles as they tried to overpower one another. 

“You’re good at running, Jedi,” Maul taunted. Fury burned red-hot behind Obi-Wan’s eyes. 

“I’m no Jedi,” Obi-wan snarled, and threw himself at Maul. They fought viciously. The last time, they had been testing one another. This time, they were fighting angry. Obi-Wan scored a few sharp blows, drawing Maul’s blood and rousing the other boy’s fury. But a durasteel sword, no matter how carefully fashioned, was no match for a lightsaber. 

One of Maul’s attacks slashed straight through the blade of Obi-Wan’s sword, and nearly through Obi-Wan’s arm. Obi-Wan managed to roll out of the way, leaving the remains of his weapon to clatter, sizzling, to the floor. Being more familiar with their surroundings was all that saved Obi-Wan’s life that night. He dodged and ran, fury burning in his gut. 

When morning came, Obi-Wan warily retreated to where he’d slept the night before, hoping to recover some of his belongings. He wasn’t too surprised to find that the pack he’d left behind had been rummaged through, the contents spilled on the ground. The food he’d been carrying was gone, as was his canteen and any weapon that hadn’t been secured to his body. All his charge-packs were gone, and what little remained had been destroyed, the pack itself and his blankets hacked into scraps with seared and fraying edges. 

The lingering fear from earlier, and Obi-Wan’s wariness as he returned to the scene of Maul’s attack, were swamped with a rising tide of anger. That pack and the little contained within were Obi-Wan’s only possessions. Those weapons were his only means of defending himself and protecting his people as they fought for peace. 

Obi-Wan seethed for a long moment before bottling his fury. Anger at Maul would do him no good at the moment. He needed to get to shelter for the night, and he needed to resupply. Mentally, he ran the maps of the area through his mind. He was fairly close to a settlement, although the Young weren’t terribly welcome there. Still, he could likely sleep in one of the abandoned buildings that night, and scavenge some necessities there.

Through the night, Obi-Wan could feel Maul hunting him. He slept only lightly, wary of Maul coming upon him while he was unconscious again. Before the sun was up, Obi-Wan was on his way, scavenging what he could, and then continuing on his patrol, a few new knives tucked into his belt, a new (to him) pack slung across his back. 

For the next few days, Obi-Wan was more closely hunted by Maul. More than once he rose after resting for only an hour or so to press on. He drew heavily on the Force to supplement his insufficient sleep and nutrition, but he knew doing so would only buy him so much time. Eventually he would have to face Maul again, and he didn’t much like the current odds. Maul had better weaponry and supplies. While Obi-Wan was incredibly stubborn, and unlikely to give up without a fight, he knew that Maul wouldn’t have to try too hard to capture him. 

Knowing he’d be overmatched in a direct confrontation, Obi-Wan took advantage of his familiarity with his surroundings to avoid Maul’s notice. For a time he worked. He was able to make his way back to the contested capital city of Zehava. There, he got new weaponry and supplies from stores, and checked in with his lieutenants. Maul hung back further, clearly not wanting to confront him in a more populated environment, at least not yet. 

Obi-Wan debated using that to his advantage, staying in Zehava or rotating between there and the other cities of Quadri and Garth. Even if he took that route, he knew, there were long open stretches of countryside between the cities that he would have to travel, where he would be open to attack. Staying in the cities wasn’t really an option, either, if he wanted to continue helping the Young in their push to claim the infrastructure necessary to declare themselves the governing party on-planet. 

Finally Obi-Wan decided to just go on as much as possible as if Maul weren’t there. He couldn’t totally ignore the other boy’s presence of course. And he would likely have to defend himself. But he wouldn’t leave the Young voluntarily, and he would fight to stay on the course he had plotted for himself. The Young still needed him, and until they didn’t, he would remain, and do his best to either fight Maul off, or convince him that this was a futile pursuit. 

Only a few days into Obi-Wan’s next solo patrol, Maul melted out of the brush alongside the footpath Obi-Wan walked. Rather to Obi-Wan’s surprise, Maul didn’t attack, just fell in as he walked, keeping out of reach but close enough to talk. Obi-Wan waited. He wasn’t always the most patient of people, but he’d learned how to wait, and over the past days his anger had faded. He might not be a Jedi, but he once was, and he still followed many of their teachings. 

“Why do you - help them?” Maul asked, brow ridges drawn down over his golden eyes. The Force churned around him, emphasizing his confusion. 

“Why would I not?” Obi-Wan posed in turn, and Maul’s frown deepened. 

“They are weak,” Maul said. “The strong prey on the weak, that is the way of things.”

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan said with a shrug, because it often was the way of things. “It doesn’t have to be the way of things,” he said after a while. “The Young want peace and safety. They want the chance to grow up, to become adults without being conscripted into sectarian violence.” He let silence settle around them as they walked on. 

“I still don’t see why you would give up the power of the Jedi to stay here, scrabbling in the dirt,” Maul said. Obi-Wan huffed quietly.

“I’m not sure you understand the Jedi, if you think of them as powerful,” Obi-Wan said. “They have ability in the Force, yes, and a governmental mandate, but they must act within the bounds placed on them by the Senate and Chancellery. That is part of the reason I am no longer a Jedi. Our mission here was to retrieve a member of the Order, nothing more. I defied the orders of both my Master and the Council to stay with the Young, because I believe their cause is worth fighting for.”

“My Master would kill me for such disobedience,” Maul grumbled, quietly enough that Obi-Wan thought he didn’t mean to be heard. 

“Why would I want to serve him, if he punishes disobedience with death?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I do not dare defy him,” Maul said, his shoulders rounding in. 

“And how would he know? Is he here? Can he read your mind from wherever he is?” Obi-Wan demanded. 

“No,” Maul said. He reached up, tugging at the horn at the center at his forehead. “He would find out. And I would never be safe.” 

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan said, trying to quash the pity that welled up in him. He couldn’t imagine fearing his Master. For all that they had parted on bad terms, and he knew intellectually that Qui-Gon Jinn was a large and potentially intimidating man, it had been a long time since Obi-Wan had associated feelings other than annoyance and before that comfort with his former Master. “You’ll have to either capture or convince me, to get me off world,” Obi-Wan reminded. “So far, you’re not doing so great on either.” 

Maul lashed out at that, but he didn’t draw his weapon. They tussled, tumbling into the dirt and scuffling, punching and kicking, but neither of them drawing arms. Finally they broke apart, panting and watching one another warily. Obi-Wan turned his head slightly, spitting out the blood that welled inside his mouth where Maul had split his lips. 

“I will capture you,” Maul said grumpily. 

“See you then,” Obi-Wan said with a slight smirk, and with a huff, Maul melted back into the undergrowth and disappeared into the brush to nurse his wounds. Obi-Wan snorted, then winced, reaching up to poke at his nose. He was pretty sure it wasn’t broken, but one of Mauls’ horns had scored a ragged cut along the side of it. That would likely scar. Obi-Wan grimaced, then turned and continued on. He had rounds to make, and work to do.

Over the next weeks, Maul’s presence lingered at the back of Obi-Wan’s mind. Occasionally the other boy would appear, either for a contentious conversation or to fight. Some of the fights were more enthusiastic than others. From hints Maul inadvertently dropped during their arguments, Obi-Wan thought those more vicious attacks came shortly after Maul had checked in with his Master, and reported his lack of progress.

Once the pattern was established between them, Obi-Wan got so he could anticipate Maul’s approach, could tell before the other boy showed himself whether they would be fighting or talking that day. Sometimes he could even tell whether Maul would be fighting just to keep up appearances, or out of honest frustration at the lack of progress in his mission. Maul probably wouldn’t have been predictable to anyone else, there wasn’t an established pattern to their contact. But as the only other trained Force user around, Maul was a blaring beacon in the Force to Obi-Wan. When the time between confrontations lengthened beyond a week, Obi-Wan began to worry. 

Obi-Wan waited a few days before tracking Maul down, not sure if this might be some new ambush technique, and well aware his own curiosity could be used to his detriment. But after nearly a week and a half without contact, Obi-Wan reached for the sensation of Maul in his mind, and followed that presence. He wasn’t trained for tracking, but Maul was familiar to his Force senses, and Obi-Wan was sure he could follow the other boy anywhere.

Maul’s Force presence led Obi-Wan out into the countryside, and as he drew closer to where Maul seemed to be, Obi-Wan’s worry began to increase. There was very little around, and Maul’s presence was fainter than anticipated, not as energetic. As Obi-Wan approached the dilapidated barn where it seemed Maul had taken shelter, he reached out with his own Force presence, sending reassurance and comfort as best he could. He wasn’t sure it would help, but Maul would at least know he was coming. 

Obi-Wan found Maul curled into a stinking nest of mouldy straw, shivering with cold. For all that the other boy had attacked him, had injured him and destroyed his meager belongings, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but pity him. It seemed clear to Obi-Wan that no one had ever cared about Maul. While sometimes Obi-Wan wondered if the Jedi had truly cared about him, he only had to remember Bant and Garen and Reeft, the gentle Docents in the creche and even wise old Master Yoda to know that he had been loved, perhaps still was loved by the Jedi. No one, it seemed, had shared similar kindnesses with Maul.

“Easy now,” Obi-Wan murmured, reaching out. Maul was fever-hot to the touch, and Obi-Wan was fairly certain it was the flush of sickness, not just a physiological difference between humans and Zabraks. “Maul?” Obi-Wan asked, opening his canteen and holding the lip to Maul’s mouth. Golden eyes slit open, and Maul bared his sharp teeth, but didn’t have the energy to swat Obi-Wan away. “Yeah, you’re sick alright,” Obi-Wan murmured, and helped him take some water. 

It took only a moment of hesitation for Obi-Wan to make up his mind. While Maul might continually stress the differences between them, and those differences were many, Obi-Wan could only see the commonalities. For all Maul talked of his Master, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think of the other boy as being abandoned, left to fend for himself, just like Obi-Wan. Maul clearly _wanted_ to believe that he was of use to his Master, that his mission was important, that he would eventually beat Obi-Wan and drag him off planet. But Obi-Wan mostly saw another lost teenager, in need of a cause.

Gently, Obi-Wan gathered Maul up, along with his meagre pack. It was awkward, arranging Maul on his back and the packs hanging from his shoulders, but he wouldn’t leave Maul to fight off this sickness alone. It was probably just a fever brought on by the foul conditions prevalent throughout Melida / Daan, but even those illnesses could be fatal if not treated, and there was the chance it was something more serious, like cholera or dysentary. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know how long he walked before he found a structure with the markings that denoted it both safe and having potable water. Most buildings had marks of one sort or another on the exterior - and most strongly encouraged passing travelers to stay away, due to either territorial inhabitants or dangers presented by the structure itself. Some houses were still safe, and the Young kept them stocked with food and firewood and other supplies as they were able, so that they could rest in such way-houses on their peacekeeping patrols.

Settling Maul onto the thin mattress, Obi-Wan heaped the meagre blankets around the other boy, then set to heating water. Once it boiled, he put some aside to cool, but used a bit to steep some of the healing herbs he carried with him. While the medicinal tea wasn’t very potent, it was better than nothing at all. Hopefully it worked in the same manner for Zabraks as it did for humans. When the tea was cool enough to drink, Obi-Wan carefully dripped some into Maul’s slack mouth, stroking his throat to encourage him to swallow. It took a long time, to get a small mugful into Maul, and the Zabrak’s stillness alarmed Obi-Wan as much as his fever. 

For the next week, Obi-Wan did his best to help Maul through his sickness. He radioed back to base a couple times so that they knew not to wait on him, and to talk to one of the others who’d begun teaching themselves first aid and healing. With their unfamiliarity with Zabraks, Maul’s symptoms were inconclusive. Obi-Wan tried reaching out with the Force, but it slipped from his grasp. 

Eventually Maul did improve. His first act upon regaining consciousness and coherence was to promise that if Obi-Wan lay dying, Maul wouldn’t return the favour. The threat made Obi-Wan grin, his anxiety easing. Maul would be fine, if he was feeling up to being obnoxious.

Obi-Wan stayed with Maul until Maul was walking - and complaining. The Zabrak wasn’t quite at full strength, but he was in a truly foul mood, and Obi-Wan decided eventually that discretion was the better part of valour. If he stayed much longer, he thought Maul might actually manage to kill him. So Obi-Wan continued on his much delayed journey, smiling slightly at the thought of how much he’d actually liked Maul, when Maul didn’t have enough energy to be antagonistic. 

The enforced time together also left Obi-Wan curious about the other boy. It was clear that Maul didn’t know anything like the healing trance that most Jedi learned - he’d simply passed out where he fell, too weakened by the fever to continue. While Maul was a very good fighter - easily Obi-Wan’s match if not his superior, other skills that Obi-Wan took for granted were clearly unknown to Maul. It was a trail of thought Obi-Wan could contemplate for some time as he walked. 

It came down to their disparate training, Obi-Wan decided eventually. He knew from their limited conversations that Maul’s Master treated him more or less like an assassin, rather than an apprentice. Maul’s training focused on fighting, to almost the complete exclusion of other skills and knowledge. He was an expert on withstanding incredible amounts of pain, and could use his pain as a source of strength. Obi-Wan thought there was probably some Sith philosophy that grounded such efforts, but Maul simply knew that even if he was hurt, he must complete his mission or face further punishment from his Master. To Obi-Wan, it sounded like an awful way to live.

After Maul’s bout of illness, it took longer than usual for the Zabrak to hunt Obi-Wan down. Obi-Wan wasn’t terribly surprised. The other teen was likely still recovering. When Maul did come for Obi-Wan, he attacked far more viciously than he had in some time. There was an air of desperation to him, but despite that, Obi-Wan managed to beat him, even without having use of a lightsaber. 

“I _will_ kill you,” Maul growled, trapped in an almost gentle hold. 

“Your Master no longer wants me alive?” Obi-Wan asked. It was a delaying tactic - he wanted more time to make sure Maul was recovering. It was clear the Zabrak wasn’t back to full strength, but he looked much healthier than when they had parted company.

“ _I_ no longer want you alive,” Maul hissed, and despite that he could feel the other boy’s anger and shame, Obi-Wan was stung by the venom in Maul’s voice. 

“I didn’t take care of you to get power over you,” Obi-Wan said carefully, trying to find the right terms to make himself understood. “I didn’t do it to shame you or anything.”

“I’m not ashamed,” Maul bit out. “And I would have been fine.”

“Maybe so,” Obi-Wan admitted. “But I didn’t do it entirely for you, you know. I like sparring with you, and talking with you. And it would be pretty ironic if the first Sith I met was done in by a fever.” He laced the last with just enough teasing to make Maul growl, and struggle. “I would miss you if you were gone,” Obi-Wan said more gently, and Maul went limp in his arms. 

“It would suck to be killed by the lack of decent amenities on this mudball,” Maul admitted, clearly wishing to ignore Obi-Wan’s more emotional admission. Obi-Wan carefully released Maul, who stepped quickly away, as if afraid Obi-Wan would grab hold of him again. 

“You know, you’re allowed to feel things other than anger,” Obi-Wan prodded, suddenly annoyed. Not by Maul’s lack of gratitude - he’d never expected gratitude. It was Maul’s seeming lack of care about his future, about the fact that he didn’t seem to understand that he deserved not only life, but happiness. For a Sith, Obi-Wan thought Maul showed a marked lack of self-interest, and that grated at Obi-Wan. He knew he wasn’t exactly a model of mental health himself. But he’d also been fighting a war for months; killing, watching his friends die, struggling just to survive. 

“I know that,” Maul bit back, and Obi-Wan sighed, deflating and scrubbing his hand through his shaggy hair.

“I just - I worry about you Maul,” Obi-Wan said, well aware that his worry was at best unnecessary, and more likely, utterly unwelcome.

“I can take care of myself,” Maul said stiffly. Obi-Wan dipped his head in agreement, despite the recent evidence that Maul wasn’t strictly the best at taking care of himself. 

“I know that,” Obi-Wan acknowledged. “That doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to you.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Think of it as more Jedi sentimentality if that helps.” Maul huffed, but at least didn’t storm off.

“If you care so much, why don’t you just come with me?” Maul said after a stretch of silence.

“Caring for you doesn’t wholly eclipse my sense of self preservation,” Obi-Wan returned dryly, amd Maul shrugged, as if to say _at least I tried_. Obi-Wan huffed a quiet laugh. 

“Come on,” Obi-Wan said decisively. “You still look like crap, and the inn in the next settlement owes me a favour. I’ll treat you to lunch.” 

Maul just stared for a long moment, until Obi-Wan began to wonder if he hadn’t pushed the other boy too far. Finally, Maul nodded. They walked side by side into the hamlet, and were soon eating a hearty soup with crusty, fresh-baked bread. 

“You know, you’d have more time to convince me to go to your Master if you just - stayed with me,” Obi-Wan proposed when they had finished their meal. Maul looked at him appraisingly from the corner of his eye. 

“This is just more Jedi nonsense to keep an eye on me, isn’t it?” Maul asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

“A little,” Obi-Wan admitted with a smile and a shrug. “But it’s also the truth. You don’t have to make up your mind right now. And you can change you mind any time you like.” 

Maul made a quiet, thoughtful noise, then shook his head. “Maybe next time Kenobi,” Maul said, and there was the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Then again, I may just kill you and save us both the trouble.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Obi-Wan said, and rose. “Alright then. You always seem to find me, so I’m sure you’ll let me know if you change your mind.” He headed for the door, pausing a few steps away and turning back. “And Maul? May the Force be with you.” Maul wrinkled his nose, but didn’t follow Obi-Wan out the door.

Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised when he went another fairly long stretch without seeing Maul, although a couple times he thought he sensed the Zabrak nearby. But Maul was likely still regaining his strength and stamina after his sickness, and Obi-Wan had given him a fair bit to think over, too. Obi-Wan reminded himself that he couldn’t force Maul into anything. He still found himself missing the Zabrak. 

Before Maul returned, Obi-Wan found himself the one in need of help. While the war was officially over by then, there were still groups of Melida and Daan settlers who wanted to continue fighting. More than one patrol of Young had been lost to such militias, which was why Obi-Wan strongly encouraged his patrols to travel in pairs or packs. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t a recommendation he always - or even often - followed himself.

Obi-Wan considered him lucky to a degree - the elders had been content to injure him, then left him for dead. He’d taken a blaster shot to the right biceps, another to the left thigh. If they’d bothered to check, make sure they’d killed him, he was certain those two wounds would have been followed by a fatal shot to either the chest or head. 

Knowing he didn’t have much time before shock set in, Obi-Wan dragged himself from the open road, curling into a hollow under some bushes. Breath ragged with pain, he forced himself to remain calm. If he panicked, it was over. He couldn’t afford to panic. He wanted to live. He reached for the Force, and it slipped from his grasp at first, his pain clouding his mind. 

Slowly, Obi-Wan managed to clear his mind, then settle into meditation. He sank into the Force, slowing his heart and lungs, sinking deep into a healing trance. Later, Obi-Wan would learn that he maintained the healing trance for well over three days. 

Obi-Wan woke to the scent of a woodfire, and the gentle warmth of a hand pressed to his chest. His leg and arm hurt, but not nearly as badly as when he’d forced himself into meditation. Maul’s familiar presence enveloped him, was warm and comforting as the campfire Maul had lit. 

“Maybe I _should_ travel with you, you clearly can’t take care of yourself,” Maul groused, having felt Obi-Wan finally awaken. 

“Mmm, good idea,” Obi-Wan said sleepily, nudging his Force-presence against Maul’s. Maul’s presence grew tense, but didn’t retreat. After a moment, the Force opened up between them, a loose bond linking them. “Stuck with me,” Obi-Wan said, and slipped into a healthy sleep. Maul sighed, but his shoulders relaxed.

In the morning, Maul and Obi-Wan continued on together. Neither of them mentioned it, although they had plenty of other things to talk about. The conversation was awkward at first, as they felt out their boundaries. They already knew a great deal about one another, but they hadn’t discussed their deeper hurts, Maul’s worries about his insignificance to his Master, and Obi-Wan’s sense of abandonment by his. Those conversations would take time, and a great deal more trust. 

Time was something they had plenty of. For the next few years, Maul and Obi-Wan were traveling partners, coordinating the Young and shepherding their government as it took shape. By the time Obi-Wan felt it was right to leave the Young, he and Maul trusted one another implicitly. 

In the interim, they had built a new government - a democratic government - that served all the Melida, all the Daan, all the Young. Part of Obi-Wan wanted to grasp hold of the Young, keep control - and protection - over them. But he knew that was not the Jedi way. 

Although Obi-Wan had left the Order, and claimed not think of himself as a Jedi, they were his people despite that he no longer lived among them. Despite that he was becoming more and more certain that while he would not remain with the Young, neither would he return to the Jedi.

“Who were your people?” Obi-Wan asked Maul, and Maul wrinkled his nose, thinking back, searching through snippets of memory. 

“Dathomir,” Maul said thoughtfully. “I think he said he brought me off a world called Dathomir. I suppose those must be my people.” He didn’t sound entirely certain, but it was more than Obi-Wan knew. 

So when the Young no longer needed a general, or someone to guide them in building a government; when Obi-Wan was only an uncomfortable reminder of the years of war and those they’d lost. Obi-Wan and Maul, and the few Force sensitive children of Melida / Daan who they had begun to train, and who had refused to be left behind, who wanted the bonds of trained Force users, those who could teach them the ways of the Force even if they weren’t wholly Jedi ways or wholly Sith ways, boarded the ship that Obi-Wan took as his payment as the last general of the Young, and laid a course for Dathomir.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr, pillowfort and dreamwidth as @wrennette, feel free to come say hi!


End file.
